Wake
by duels.duets
Summary: The last time they had laid there quietly, she had sunk back into the nest of bedding dreamily, floating into half-sleep, his arm curled hotly around her.


She was, cold, wretchedly so, shivering like an abandoned child, amidst torn fabric, military sheets, scraps pretending to hold in warmth.

The mornings were always the same, always the worst part, not the nights like most people had found. Maya had confessed that being down here made going to bed alone even worse. Not so for Laura, she had gotten used to going to bed alone long ago.

It was the mornings that were unbearable, between that time of waking and having to get up the cold seemed to penetrate, a cruel reminder of…everything she wished she could forget, in every sense, and it didn't matter how many blankets she hoarded, or how many layers of frumpy clothing she put on, it always awoke her, froze her in these few moments with a clarity that she found disturbing.

In these minutes before she gathered the courage to stumble from her bed, the world seemed to condense, sharpen to a narrow point, entirely perceivable in a way that reminded her of the Chamalla induced dreams, it was like knowing truth, feeling it inside you.

It made her wish she drank. Made her wish that there was someone beside her to stave off the cold, blind her to the truth.

The fleet had been gone so long…

The last time they had laid there quietly, she had sunk back into the nest of bedding dreamily, floating into half-sleep, his arm curled hotly around her. He had seemed tense afterwards, not regretful, they had all forgotten regret by then, but he was unusually still against her back.

She had studied him surreptitiously, through half-lids, his face seemed a little more lined, and he had gained as much weight on his ship as she had lost on this planet, neither of their current lifestyles suited them.

He had inhaled deeply then, nose pressed into her even more unruly hair, and then he had pulled away, just a little, just enough, that a sting of cold air met the back of her neck, made her dig in deeper.

"I'm going to marry Dee," he breathed, no sadness, though some spark of determination gleamed in his eyes.

She fully opened her eyes, took him in, stubborn jaw, worried lines sharpening on his brow, and turned away, to the window flap, she would have to get up for school soon.

"That's good," she murmured, voice a little rough from more pleasant activities, and other things.

His arms tightened around her, but the covers slipped further, the cold licked up her spine, a caress, a little death. He tilted her head a little, looked in her eyes, searching, then he ducked down and pressed a chaste kiss to her cold lips, she thought she tasted salt.

"I'm not going to say goodbye," he whistled against her ear, the wind cooling her further.

"Probably for the best," she returned, and his arms squeezed tighter, she thought that he might be trying to press her into him until they couldn't be separated, lock and key. The covers slipped a little more. Time stretched itself out uncomfortably, she felt like she was holding her breath.

She thought that this entire exchange had gotten entirely too melancholy, she didn't want his memory of her to be tinged with sadness, like so many of their other memories.

"Well then, " she turned with a mock glare, " I only have one question for you Commander Adama," and he honestly gave her a worried little glance, eyes bulging a little. "…Do I still have you vote?" she smiled brightly, and a little grin returned to his face, which he quickly turned stoic again, and looked into her eyes.

"Always…always," and he said it like a promise, reverently between last desperate kisses, hands warming forgotten skin. He would return here, he had always followed her, this was just a short reprieve.

He had left for Pegasus while she was at the school, he hadn't said goodbye, like he promised, and the fleet had disappeared, the cylons had returned, and the weather turned even more chill.

She had come back to her bed alone that night, and was content with it. But when she woke, the cold was that much sharper, that much more piercing, worse in the aftermath of what she had lost.


End file.
